


The Yule Boar

by ourdreamsrealized



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 06:37:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17116301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourdreamsrealized/pseuds/ourdreamsrealized
Summary: Loki and Sif find themselves lost and trapped in a snowstorm thanks to Loki's determination to hunt a wild boar.





	The Yule Boar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thewritingwanderer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewritingwanderer/gifts).



> This did not turn out at all how I wanted it, and for that, I do apologize. However, I will be making edits when I can. I do hope you enjoy it, regardless. Happy holidays, and thank you for the amazing prompt ideas! I would have done all of them, if I had the time. Maybe I will.

“I cannot believe you got the two of us lost!” Sif shouted into the depths of the dense forest around her. “We should have never followed after that boar. We should have never separated from the others.”

Loki did his absolute best not to snap back at her, partially because she was somewhat right. He had suggested the hunt in the first place, which everyone had readily agreed to. His hope was to kill something to put on the Yule table tomorrow because the last few years it had been Thor’s prizes that graced the table at the Yule feast. Loki wanted to show that he was just as skilled as his brother in hunting, providing, and he especially wanted a certain goddess to see that.

But Loki would sooner put himself on a platter than tell that to her, so he had to bear with her fury. Hopefully, she wouldn’t strike a nerve; Loki’s pride had already taken quite the hit today.

“What’s done is done, Sif,” Loki said, sounding comparatively calmer about their current ordeal. “All we can do is try to figure out the path we took to get where we are.”

It was easier said than done. When Loki had spotted the boar, it had also spotted him, so the beast took off, dodging between the trees and underbrush. Loki had followed with Sif a step behind him, and for the life of him, he didn’t know why she had felt the need to. This was meant to be _his_ glorious kill, but in the end, it had been an enormous blunder upon his part. The boar was nowhere to be found after searching the area they had come to for the past hour or so. Nothing else had turned up either.

And, now, the light flurries that had dusted them earlier in the day, were becoming larger and more frequent. They stuck to the ground, and the sky loomed above them, peaking between the evergreen branches and leaves.

He really despised appearing as a fool, especially in front of Sif, of all people.

“There is not much time for that.” Loki turned at her voice, seeing that she, too, saw the storm that would surely trap them out here. Her eyes found his, and for a moment, the fire he usually saw in them was subdued, replaced by an understanding of the gravity of their situation. “It would be wiser for us to search for shelter.”

“Where?” he questioned, a frown pulling at his lips. They were lost in the middle of a forest, after all, and they could hardly take refuge in the limbs of a tree.

The glare she had been regarding him with earlier returned with a new passion, and despite his instincts, his heart leaped under such a look. She stepped closer, moving passed him, and he suddenly felt very cold, an oddity for him.

“We were not too far from the mountains, and if my suspicions are correct, when we were chasing the boar, we were running towards them,” Sif speculated as Loki followed her down an unknown path, one she made for the both of them.

The young prince wondered if doing such a thing—pressing forward despite the fact the neither of them knew where they were exactly—was wise, but he supposed there was no other choice. They would have to rely heavily on their own survival tactics and knowledge, and a snowstorm was not something someone should try to endure, even a god and a goddess. Shelter was the number one priority followed by food and water, which, they could survive one night without. He was also certain that Sif had a canteen on her person, which probably still contained some water. If not, he could always try conjuring it, despite not mastering such spells just yet.

Loki did not know how much time had passed as they walked in silence, but it was without any warning that Sif dropped into a squat, her hand moving to grab some dirt from the ground. She sifted through it while the prince peered at her face. Her dark brows were furrowed in concentration as her blue eyes remained focused on the pile of ground within her grasp.

“There is sediment mixed in there,” Loki murmured after taking a few moments to study the dirt in her palm.

She let out a hum, nodding her head as she came to her full height beside him. Cleaning off her hands by brushing them against one another, she continued forward, her boots sinking further into the ground as it became damper. “There is a water source around here.”

“It isn’t far off,” Loki affirmed, hearing something akin to the trickling of liquid over the silence of the forest.

“If it is the stream I am thinking of, I know exactly where we are,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him with a hint of a curve to her perfect lips.

“Then we may not need to take shelter?” He would prefer not to, despite the implication that they would be spending the night together. Alone. Oh, how his adolescent brain loved to fantasize.

Sif shook her head despondently, slowly. “We are too far away for us to return fast enough.”

Ah, of course. The snow was falling heavier, wetting their hair enough for the goddess in front of him to pull the hood of her cloak over her dark locks. He followed suit moments later, finding it increasingly frustrating to have white specks impair his vision by seating themselves upon his lashes.

A short period of time had passed, during which the winds had picked up and the trees parted to reveal a thin, babbling brook. The water leaped over stones, splashing and laughing as it went, and Loki was surprised to see fish moving with it. The scene was strangely familiar, and as they both moved to the other side of the stream, Loki voiced his suspicions, “There is a cave nearby.”

“Yes. We used to camp here,” was the goddess’ response as she pulled her cloak closed in front of her chest, one of her gloved hands holding the dark fabric together.

For a moment, Loki pondered why he did not feel the need to do the same. He felt the chill in the air, saw and heard the frost on the ground, but he was not bothered by either. Growing up, he had never been one to shy away from the cold, never being sensitive to it. He was never the one to stop a snowball fight or ask to go inside and sit by the fire. He never found himself needing an extra blanket or using the hearth in his chambers much.

But Sif? She had always had a weakness for cooler temperatures, so when they entered the cave, he had not been surprised to see her teeth chattering. Her body shivered as they walked further from the mouth of the natural room, and Loki immediately thought to use his magic to provide some warmth. Luckily, he had just mastered the art of conjuring fire this past week. With a simple spell, a flame appeared in his hands. Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground, placing the small fire within an old pit. There was ash and remnants of wood, surrounded by a bunch of rocks to keep the bonfire they had created the last time they had stayed here within place.

“There,” he whispered as he stood, looking over at Sif only to beckon her over. “Keep near the fire. I’ll see if I can find us something to eat.” The fish had looked promising, since he clearly couldn’t hunt anything that could run off.

“You needn’t worry about that. Just let me warm up, and then I’ll—”

“You will do no such thing,” Loki stated firmly as he watched her settle next to the flames. “I will be back shortly,” he said with a bit of a softer tone before turning back the way they had come.

Outside, the snow was really coming down; the prince could hardly tell the difference between land and sky, for it was so white. The forest had disappeared, covered in layers upon layers of snowflakes. The wind was none too kind either, and Loki realized he would have to make this quick. The last thing he wanted was for Sif to come looking for him when she was clearly freezing.

Fortunately, the stream was not too far, and enough time had not yet passed for it to be frozen over.

* * *

Sleeping on the ground without a pelt or two beneath you was far too uncomfortable for Loki’s liking. He tossed and turned with a mind far too busy processing the day’s events to even begin to entertain the idea of rest. And unfortunately for him, he was exhausted.

After bearing with the weather long enough to catch a few fish, Loki returned to the cave to find Sif still huddled by the fire. Upon seeing him, she had snapped at him, scolding him for being out in such a storm for so long. He pointed out that they would need to eat to keep their strength up, and Sif rebutted with “safety first”. An argument ensued while the both of them cooked their fish, and dinner was had in silence.

When she was sated, Sif immediately turned her back on him, laying on her side with a harsh “goodnight” directed his way. In response, he glared at her backside for a few good minutes before turning on his side, keeping his back to her as well.

Now, she was adding to the list of things keeping him wide awake; her teeth were chattering so loudly that Loki could hardly think a complete thought. How was she so cold? His fire had kept going, and he was even a little hot from the heat it was emitting.

Feeling his own worry for her well being eat at gnaw at him, he flipped onto his other side and shifted closer to her.

“What do you want?” she bit out, surprising her companion just a little; he thought she was lost in slumber.

“You’re shivering,” he said, though he knew it wasn’t a proper answer.

“And?” she managed before her body shook violently.

“By the norns, just come _here_ ,” he practically growled, turning her to face him and wrapping an arm about her waist.

Surprisingly, she allowed this, and Loki realized just how uncomfortable she had to have been to tolerate his closeness. Her muscles relaxed in his hold, and he he felt her scoot a bit towards him, her head even with his upper chest.

All was quiet, and Loki had thought she had finally fallen asleep, until he looked down to find her looking back up at him. His brows furrowed in confusion. Why would she be staring at him so intently? Was there something on his face?

“I am sorry.” Well, he hadn’t been expecting that. A snippy comment, yes. An apology? No.

He blinked. Maybe he had heard wrong?

“I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you for getting lost. I followed you, and I could have easily kept tabs on where we were going,” Sif said with a sigh, averting her gaze. “And I definitely shouldn’t have picked a fight when you were just trying to help.”

The young prince took a few moments to process this, as it was quite unexpected, but not unwelcome. “I apologize, too. I should have been more diligent, but I was too focused on catching that boar to prove myself a capable hunter.” He revealed more than he had intended, but if Sif was willing to admit her mistakes, he was, too.

“Well, you still ended up proving that,” Sif remarked, looking up at him with a small smile.

“How so?” Loki questioned, meeting her gaze with a small frown. Did she not notice how easily he had lost his prey?

“For one thing, you managed to catch some fish, and for another, you assisted in finding shelter and keeping me warm,” Sif explained with a slight shrug. “Those are all things a capable hunter would be able to do.”

Her words had brightened his spirits, and the god found himself smiling down at her, pleased to find that she had seen his worth when he had missed it. “Thank you, Sif. I do appreciate it.”

A pregnant pause followed, and Loki realized he was gazing into her crystalline orbs for too long for it to still be considered appropriate, but he found that a part of him really didn’t care. She was beautiful; he had always thought that, even as a child. He had been a fool to think stripping her of her golden locks would make her less stunning, less desirable.

His eyes strayed from her own as he held her closer. They found her lips, red from the frigid temperature and oh so tempting. How many hours had he spent in and out of slumber, dreaming of what it would be like to slant his mouth over hers, to finally sample the forbidden fruit that had grown before him and tantalized him all his life? He did not know. Dozens? Days worth? Nor did he care. No fabrication of his mind compared to actually holding her close, feeling her form against his own, wrapped within his own. None compared to her warmth, her smell, her slow, tepid breaths.

She had to know of his feelings. She had to know that all his mind was considering was how much he wished to kiss her.

So he did. Carefully, like a child claiming a sweet while cautiously watching for someone to deny him of the pleasure, he leaned in. His heart beat harshly against the walls of his chest; he could hear his own blood rushing through his arteries and veins. But all went still the moment she moved, bridging the tiny gap he had left with as much trepidation as he had.

He heard her breath hitch, and oh, what a sound. It made his whole body ache for her. And her lips were soft, perfect as they melded against his own. He focused completely on the sensation, the light press of her mouth to his as she returned his affections. It was a thrill unlike any he had experienced before, and his whole being screamed for more. Slowly, terrified of startling her into pulling away, he parted his lips and tasted hers. His heart leapt into his throat as she opened herself up to him, wishing to sample him as well. Tilting his head, he kissed her as expertly as a boy with little experience could, and any doubts he had went out into the snow-laden landscape when he heard her sigh and press herself up against him.

If only he had the power. He would make this last forever. The storm would never stop. Asgard would not miss them. And the essentials for life such as food, water, and air would become novelties. All he would need to survive was already cradled in his arms.

He didn’t know when they had both decided breath was necessary, but when they did, he tried to process what was happening. Sif, however, was making it very difficult. Within the blink of an eye, she had him on his back, her legs on either side of him, and her lips returning to his once more. Her kiss stifled the groan that escaped his throat as her hips became flush with his, starting a fire in him unlike any he had felt before.

She must have noticed, too, because his name came from her tongue in a desperate plea. For what, he could only dare to guess. Never had he considered the possibility that she felt this way about him. She was Thor’s; she had been since the day she was born.  

But right now, in this cave, in a winter storm, she wanted to be his.

He felt her hands tug at his coat, fingers fumbling with his buttons, while his calloused digits trailed the curve of her spine. How they had went from outside her cloak to under her tunic, he would never know, but he had determined it was something not worth fretting about. Most things weren’t when you had the goddess of war on top of you, attempting to disrobe you.

She was his weakness, and because of her, he considered letting this progress into his most desired fantasy. He’d kiss more than just her lips. He’d touch more than just her back. Feel more than her smooth skin. Hear more than just her sighs…And it would all be better than anything he had ever come close to imagining because this, this was real. She was real and alive, moving above him.

But he could not do this here. Not in the dirt of a cave. It was this thought that rang clear and compelled him to pull away from her.

What a look she gave him then. It was one of utter disappointment mixed with hurt.

Her expression pained him, and after taking a few breaths—because he found that she had left him without many—he finally spoke, “Not here, my lady. I will not have our first time together be here.”

With the realization that he was only rejecting the setting, Sif gave him a smile that made him wish he had never stopped her in the first place. Gods, how could the small curve to those lips—the very ones he had been kissing—have such a profound effect upon him? He would conquer worlds, wipe out entire planets just to feel the warmth her grin inspired within him.

Imagine his surprise when she gives him one more opportunity. She leans forward, her lips brushing against his own in a way that pulls something within him taut. “I do not care,” were the words that she whispered, the ones that made him question his resolve, but he somehow finds the strength to break their liplock yet again.

“Sif, please. I wish to court you properly first, and I want our first night together to be more romantic than this,” he said with such conviction that she put a little more distance between their faces. “You at least deserve that.”

That smile from before returns, and he melts as she lays herself atop him, pecking his cheek with a pleasant little hum. “If that is what you wish for us.” She sighed. “I do not mind being patient.”

“Thank you,” he murmured into her hair as she cuddled closer to him, her arms wrapping about his neck.

They lay like this, in silence, for several long moments, before she speaks again; this time, she poses a question, “Did you wish to slay the boar to impress me?”

He remained silent as horror strikes him at his very core. How did she know? And does he acknowledge it?

Apparently, for her, his silence was acknowledgement enough, and he could hear her soft laugh echo off the walls of their temporary home for the evening.


End file.
